I checked the briefcase. It was still handcuffed to my wrist, and still locked. Even so, it seemed to me that it was lighter.
The Lesson Short story by Iris Carden The principal had determined that lessons would go ahead as normal. Students who needed time out, or who wanted to talk about the incident could go to the school counsellor. It was not to be discussed in class. Elizabeth gasped when she first saw Mary enter the room,…… Continue reading The Lesson
History Poem by Iris Carden How will history remember our times? How will our story be told? Will it recall how people lost their minds and hoarded toilet paper like a dragon’s gold? Will tomorrow’s people understand the fear of those who were vulnerable, who were weak or sick or old, when life seemed so…… Continue reading History
Dolittle Short story by Iris Carden I had brought Jubjub into the treatment room. We were waiting for the new vet. It’s not that the vet was late, we were early. The old vet used to yell if he was inconvenienced by even a couple of minutes. The new vet’s name was Dolittle, and I…… Continue reading Dolittle
Finding A Friend Short story by Iris Carden Orsinius Wishlet was walking down a busy city street, when he heard a voice call out, “Orsinius? Is that you? Orsinius Wishlet?” He turned to see a human woman running toward him. Other humans had stopped to see what the yelling was about. Humans could see him?…… Continue reading Finding a Friend
Short Story by Iris Carden Out damn spot! Karen groaned, and rolled over. Lady Macbeth. She was thinking of Lady Macbeth. Lady Macbeth awake in the middle of the night, trying to clean away her guilt. How could you wash away guilt? Not when the red blood was running down the walls of the house…… Continue reading Spring Cleaning
Week 6 of Writing Club looks at where our ideas come from.
That road always felt strange to me, as if the trees were crowding close, reaching for me, blaming me for all the crimes of humans against their kind. I’ve always felt those trees were after me, as if anything bad that could to me would happen on that road.
The Light Short story by Iris Carden There’s a lot of nothing in western Queensland. On some of these roads you can drive for hours without seeing a tree, and in a prolonged drought like this one, you can even go for kilometres without sight of a blade of grass. I’m driving at night, from…… Continue reading The Light
She is Me Poem by Iris Carden She is five, a seemingly innocent child dressed up like a little princess. She lives in an adult world, The person closest to her age that she knows is the bogeyman who lives in her home and uses her body as a plaything. She has constant nightmares, both…… Continue reading She is Me